


Not Alone

by ultharkitty



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Plug and Play Sexual Interfacing, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, non-explicit reference to violence and death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 09:25:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3062555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultharkitty/pseuds/ultharkitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jazz can't sleep and comes calling on Smokescreen.</p>
<p>Contains implied PTSD, reference to torture, hurt/comfort (referenced hurt, heavy on the comfort). Written for an anon on Tumblr who requested 'Jazz/Smokescreen, maybe? With mutual bad war memories'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Alone

The door chimed a full minute before Smokescreen realised he wasn't imagining it and forced himself to wake up enough to answer. 

"What's goin' on?" he said, his optics struggling to boot. Jazz stood on the threshold, looking sheepish. "You wanna come in?"

"Yeah," Jazz said, stepping into the gloomy room and sitting heavily on Smokecreen's bunk. "Can't sleep, saw something earlier, dredged up some memories I thought I'd already dealt with, y'know?"

Smokescreen rubbed his eyes and got on the bunk beside Jazz. "Wanna talk about it?" he said. 

"I don't know," Jazz replied. He sat with his elbows on his knees, head down and his hands tensely clasped in front of his visor. "I don't think so. I just... Just wanted to be here. Not alone."

"Get in," Smokescreen said, wriggling down under the thermal regulation blanket and shaking the corner. Jazz flashed him the briefest of smiles, and lay down, letting Smokescreen cover him. "Was it Cliffjumper?" Smokescreen asked, as Jazz squirmed on the memory foam until it conformed to his contours. 

Jazz shook his head. "No. I mean, kind of. Not him, just the state he was in when he came back. Man, I thought I was over it. You do so much in your life, and one little thing, it brings everything back to haunt you."

"I feel you," Smokescreen said softly. 

"Are _you_ OK?" Jazz asked, visor bright for a moment. 

"Yeah," Smokescreen replied. "I mean no, but it's no worse than usual. The circuit dampeners put a stop to the night terrors at least."

"I'm glad," Jazz said. He took Smokescreen's hand and held it tight. "Thanks letting me in. I know you got your own scrap to deal with, without me banging on your door in the middle of the night."

"You know you're always welcome." Smokescreen pressed his face into the foam; now was not the time for half-embarrassed smiles. Jazz shuffled closer and pressed their helms together. 

They lay like that a while, their energy fields meshing, listening to the background whir of the Ark's air conditioning, and the smaller, softer sounds of their own bodies at rest. Smiling easily now, his visor dim, Jazz brought Smokescreen's hand to his mouth and kissed his knuckles. Smokescreen bit his lip, trying not to grin. 

"We can sleep if that's what you want," Jazz said. "But if you wanted to connect, I'd love to be that close with you."

"You smooth talker," Smokescreen commented, and couldn't help but laugh. He drew Jazz into a lazy embrace of light kisses and a soft and lingering caress. 

"I'll take that as a yes," Jazz said, as Smokescreen wound his fingers around Jazz's cables and plugged him in.


End file.
